


Watson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by gardnerhill



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:31:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Judith Viorst wrote Sherlock Holmes films.</p><p>Written for the 2011 July Watson's Woes Promptfest. This was prompt #20, "Watson's terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I went to bed with a gun in my hand and woke up with a gun in my hair and I cut myself shaving and ran out of pomade and lost one of my favorite set of cufflinks and broke a shoelace and that's when I knew it would be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

There were kippers and porridge for breakfast and Gladstone ate my kippers before I could get to the table and Holmes said of course he wasn't going to share his kippers so all I had for breakfast was porridge with dog slobber on it.

I think I'll move to Switzerland.

I'd just finished writing the story about the Giant Rat of Sumatra when I knocked my inkpot over half the pages and Gladstone ate the other half and vomited so I had to throw everything away. Holmes says the world isn't ready for that one anyway so who cares?

Holmes played Wagner on his violin and Wagner gives me a stomach-ache. 

I wanted to go out for a walk but it was raining and my war-wound ached so I couldn't. 

Mrs Hudson was visiting her sister so lunch was potted-meat and bloater paste sandwiches. 

I was dressing to go out to my club and found that the slavey downstairs had burnt my favourite shirt ironing it. I'd just got into my second-favourite shirt when Holmes and I got called to Scotland Yard so goodbye club. The hansom cab splashed mud on my trousers, the horse stepped on my foot, a pickpocket stole my watch, a beggar lifted my wallet, and when I tried to scrape horse dung off my new shoes one got caught in the grating and fell into the sewer. Holmes said I should try to become more aware of thieves. Next week, he said, you can buy a new pair of shoes. Next week, I said, I'll be in Switzerland.

Lestrade was boring while he talked about the murders he couldn't solve and Holmes said something rude about him to me and I said something rude right back and Lestrade heard me but not Holmes and I had to write "I will respect the authority of the police" 100 times on the chalkboard at the station-house while Holmes and Lestrade ran off to catch the killer. 

I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, I said to the other policemen. No one cared.

Holmes and Lestrade came back with the killer and he got loose. He punched me in the nose and I got blood on my second-favourite shirt. He's going to hang; I'm going to Switzerland. 

When we got back to Baker Street it was dark and I stepped in a mud puddle in my stockinged foot and two men tried to kill Holmes and me on the doorsteps and I got a blow on the head subduing my attacker. 

Stupid old Mary Morstan was in our drawing room by the fire and she asked me to marry her. What the hell, I said, my day's terrible, horrible, no good, and very bad already, why not make it worse? So now I have to marry stupid old Mary Morstan. 

All we had for tea was toast with jam and I hate jam.

Holmes did an experiment that killed my dog and I hate when he kills my dog.

There was more Wagner on the violin, I slipped on the soap in the bathroom and wrenched my bad leg, the bath-water was too cold, and my candle blew out while I was brushing my teeth. I couldn't find my diary, but I found my favourite pen all chewed up in Gladstone's basket. 

I stubbed my toe on the bedpost and got a sheet burn crawling under the covers. 

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. But it's all over now. 

I went to sleep.

And Holmes woke me up at midnight and told me we were going to Switzerland.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course this is a parody of Judith Viorst's classic children's book [Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day](http://www.amazon.com/Alexander-Terrible-Horrible-Good-Very/dp/0689711735).


End file.
